FrostedFeathers
by Cinamon Stick
Summary: An uber romance for those of you who love Jack Frost and Tooth. We're not quite to them meeting yet, but I'm working on it. PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! Srsly, it's cool to get feedback- you know that.
1. The Birds Fall

The birds are falling. They flutter in the sky as a shower of gun shots bursts from below. Then the beautiful dark shaped creatures fall to the earth with the ring of satisfaction from the hunters beneath. My teeth clench and I hold my breath, willing the birds to fly, fly far before the hunters- my father- can reach them.

It's not that my father needs the birds. We have plenty to make it through winter. 'Purely for sport' he'd tell me when I asked. He's a hardened and biased man that I've given up reasoning with. Do as he says, or at least make it seem that you do, or a beating is sure to come.

Like how he tells me that I must marry a hunter. I will not. I will not even marry. But, I tell him that I will, of course. And when he asks me what I think of animals, I say food. Never a living breathing thing. Food. Game. Sport. Just for the fun of it.

But now I must watch. It's not something I can lie about, because I watch with my brother, Eric. He smiles as he watches the mass of birds fall. He will be just like father, mother always says. She's probably right. Eric and I don't talk much.

I am nothing like my parents. I look and act just like them. But that's all it is- an act. I hate the 'sport' of killing. I hate the desperate but ignorant eyes of a doe before father shoots it through. I hate watching the birds fall.

But they're still falling.

Minutes later the guns stop. I cringe, knowing that the worst is yet to come. Mother start the water boiling over the hearth, and Father makes his way home, his arms full of the dead. This is where I will have to fight back my rage, and take them from him. They'll still be warm, still full of their lives that never got lived. I'll take them out back, and pluck them. Then I'll be expected to walk in with the meat, without flinching. This weekly torcher is what hurts me the most. I have to help my father's murderous hand; eat the meat of a victim.

Now my father comes out of the edge of the woods, his hunting bag full.

"Anna Beth!" he calls, making his way to the porch.

Mother shows up at the door, a smile on her pale face.

"There you are Mona," he says, placing the sack in my small arms. I bite my lip harder and head out back, to where I pluck them. A horrible sickness broiled in my stomach as I opened the bag, to find the small feathered bodies of the gees. I hold my breath and pull the first out.

Through a film of disgusted tears I pluck away one my one the rest of the birds, then but them delicately bag in the bag. I head into the cottage, and set them on the kitchen table. As I wash my hands in the water bucket, I hear Mother and Father speaking.

"What is it Nickolas?" Mother said, shocked.

"I don't know, Mary," he said, his chest swelling with pride.

"It's still alive?"

"Yes, but I'm going out there tonight to finish it," he says, "Then I'll bring it to the next meeting, and we'll have enough money for the next decade,"

I freeze. Tonight? He's killing another one tonight. And it's a special one.

I can't resist, that evening. I follow my father into the woods.


	2. A Mortal Hero

A small girl walks on the edge of the woods, her dark hair framing her warm face. I watch, perched above in a snow blanketed oak, silent. I knew what was to happen, like an extra sense. I wanted to warn her, to sweep below and stop her from trailing after her father through the woods. She had nothing- nothing to protect her. Why did the moon choose this fate for her? I wasn't sure, but something told me to hold back, and leave her to fates hands.

But I couldn't help watching as she entered to covet of the trees, listening to her father's footsteps and using them as a guide. I tensed as the entered the horrible clearing.

The large burly man walked toward a small chopping table, where there was a large bird. It was beautiful, with turquoise feathers and a slim beak accenting its colorful body. It was one of the last in the world, and the man walked toward it, ax in hand.

The girl watched, unbeknownst to her father, putting a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. I wanted to stop the man, or stop the girl from entering the silver meadow. But no, I couldn't. It was as if a hand was clasped around me, holding me to where I stood.

The girl began to run towards him, her footsteps silent as her father raised the ax, ready to swing it down.

"Stop!" she screamed, slamming into him and knocking them both to the ground. He slammed to the grass with a yell. She got up, moving toward the bird.

"Toothiana!" he bellowed, stepping in front of her.

She cringed, cowering away from him.

"What the hell are you doing out here at night," he grumbled.

"You can't kill it father!" she said, desparatly trying to reason with him.

"Damn it," he growled, "I will do whatever I need to,"

"But you don't need to!" anger bubbled up inside her, "We have plenty to last the winter,"

"I don't have time for this," he said, furiousely shoving her back and raising the ax.

He brought the ax down swiftly, aiming for the neck of the bird. The next moment, the ax was buried in flesh.

But not the birds.

Toothiana lay on the ground, the sharp weapon buried inside her chest. Her father screamed, pulling away. He was a selfish man, never truly caring for the girl. He left her there, injured and on her way to death.

I realized that I was crying, hard breaths shaking me. The stilling hand was gone, and I flew toward the girl, to the horribly tragic sight. Gasping for air, she stood, seeming to ignore the undoubtable pain. She stumbling toward the bird that she'd sacrificed herself for. She undid its bonds, and it stood, cocking it's head towards her almost sympathetically before turning into the woods.

She watched after it for a moment, then she swayed and fell onto the table, her weak arms clutching it for support, to no avail. She collapsed to the ground, where she stilled. I was only yard from her. She couldn't see me.

The knock at hit her in the head, and she spat up blood. Three teeth came with it, falling into the grass.

**Toothiana**

The pain seized me then. Adrenaline had blocked me from it, but sped my heart, and blood gushed from the wound, an unending scarlet river. I felt so warm, to warm. The heat from the would heated me, and I felt like I was scalding. Blood dribbled from my mouth, and I spat out teeth.

Then as I waited for death, I felt a cooling chill to my right. I didn't have the time nor energy to tun my head, but I moved my lips, trying to mutter "It's over,"

And I truly thought it was. The world was already fading from the edges, and all I could see was the moon. Then black seemed to creep around me like a cocoon.

But right before I left, I registered with a shock the outline of a boy with white hair.


	3. Waking with Questions

The color in Toothianas bright emerald eyes is fading. I look into them, my heart breaking as I watch her life drain. Then, for a moment, her eyes focus on me. I jump. She seemed to have seen me. The first to see me was her. The first to see me was dying.

Then her eyes unfocus, and her chest stills. She looks up at the sky as I weep over her, the girl I didn't save. I look to where she stares.

The moon shines over us, crisp and clear and powerful. I glare at him.

"You didn't let me save her!" I shout, "This," I clasp her still hand, "This is your fault!"

My head pounds. He won't say anything back. I know that.

I stand, sweeping a hand over her eyes. I turn my back to the meadow, leaving her to the fate I couldn't stop.

The darkness begins to break, like fragmented shards of glass, letting scratches of light break through. Then, with a shocking, deaphenening burst, I can see the sky, filled with the glimpses of stars and I focus, and see the moon, enormous and bright.

I sit up, and looking down at my hands, with a pang I see feathers on my arms. They're a warm blue, perfectly small. My hands, which are a normal peach, trace them, going to my face, also uncovered. Moving to brush back my hair, I feel more feathers.

I stand, and as I do so glance down to see three teeth, drenched in blood. My memories flood back to me. My father had…. killed me. I looked to my left, seeing the table. I'd saved the bird, but why was I still alive?

I move to cross the field, and lift off the ground. Glancing back, I see two thin, fluttering wings sprouting from my back. _What had I become?_

And in the years to come, I fulfilled my place on earth, and most of my questions were answered.

Except for one: Who was the boy with the white hair?


	4. Familiar Stranger

The rough burlap scraped me as I whirled and bumped through the portal. There was no gravity, no sense of up and down. I tightened the grip on my staff. My eyes were wide as I stared into blackness, trying desperately to see. Then, I hit a hard surface and the familiarity of ground hit me.

Tentatively, I widened the opening of the sack, to see two small creatures with long pointed hats staring back innocently.

"Hey, there he is, Jack Frost!" a loud, accented voice boomed. The elves moved away and I saw them. The four big ones. The Guardians.

"Wow," I muttered to myself, "You've got to be kidding me,"

The largest, imposing one speaking was nearly seven feet tall, well built. He had a long white beard and large blue eyes, with tattoos snaking down each arm,

I was lifted off me feet, "Hey, woah woah woah," I protested as I dropped to the ground. I swung my staff over my shoulder.

"I hope the Yeti's treated you well?" North asked.

I felt a flicker of annoyance, "Yeah, I loved getting shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal,"

He ignored my sarcasm, "Good! That was my idea. You know Bunny," he gestured to the tall, furry man leaning against a rafter. He twirled a boomerang, not meeting my eyes. He'd been sent to get me.

"Obviously," I answered, smiling at him with annoyed chagrin.

"And the Tooth Fairy,"

A small, fluttering creature whizzed up to me. I blinked as I focused on her. She was a girl, but covered in feathers that shined gold in places in crest of her head. The gold started at her neck and faded to the dominant turquoise blue. Behind her I could see blur of two wings that suspended her in the air.

She smiled, and it reached her purple eyes, "Hi Jack, I've heard a lot about you… and your teeth,"

I paused, staring at her for a moment. Where had I-had I heard that voice before. She was so, so familiar.

But I hardly had a millisecond to stutter over that as she brought her hand abruptly to my face, "Open up, are they as white as they say," she fluttered, "Yes!" she gasped adoringly, "Oh they really do sparkle like freshly fallen snow!"

I stuttered mentally for a moment, seeing the two small… hummingbird-like things behind her. No, not hummingbirds, they were far too humanoid. If this was the Tooth Fairy I'd heard about… than those must her fairies. They squealed, clenching their small fists and staring at my mouth, oddly. I smiled fondly at the colorful little creatures.

"Girls," the familiar Tooth Fairy I was sure I'd never met scolded, "Keep yourselves together. Let's not disgrace the uniforms,"

Then she fluttered away, and I pulled my eyes hesitantly away from her.


End file.
